


sweet shepherd mine

by aelescribe



Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Someone has to write about what happened while they were in the tower, Terry Says Fuck You Willy Stampler, Terry loses his dad fights with his stepdad and then has to pseudo parent his friends, it may as well be me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelescribe/pseuds/aelescribe
Summary: When you lose a parent, you’re not allowed to be a kid anymore. Terry adjusts quickly. He doesn’t argue about what’s fair. Sometimes, you just have to grit your teeth and step up.And trust someone will be there to catch you.
Relationships: Ron Stampler & Terry Jr.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	sweet shepherd mine

**Author's Note:**

> Stampler centric family fic yaaaaay
> 
> The designs I’m using for the fic belong to @MartineIsling on Twitter, such dynamic and fantastic character designs that deserve a fic all their own
> 
> Also listen to Young Man In America by Anais Mitchell. Big Inspo

“We’re hungry.”

Terry stands firmly at the blue barrier separating them from their grandfathers. There’s half a granola bar left in his shorts that he can divide into four crummy handfuls if worse comes to worse (leaving none for himself). 

He has barely seen Grant eat since he got here, Nick keeps his shaking hands in his pockets, and Sparrow only has energy thanks to Lark’s immeasurable vengeance, vowing death upon the purple-robed men. 

It didn’t take long to draw the physical comparison between Nick and Bill Close. They share the same foggy, distrustful eyes and all attempts at sincerity are skewed with smirks. 

The manic glint that Barry Oak possesses is obvious in Lark and Sparrow. The unhinged power they share is something he has a hard time believing Henry Oak carries himself. 

Grant has no grandparent equivalent, which Terry would count as lucky, if it didn’t make his solitude worse. Grant is passive company, but Terry recognizes a dissociative state when he sees one, so he sticks close.

That, and Ron’s father freaks him out. 

When Willie Stampler wasn’t screaming at the children, he was screaming at his cohorts. He was a tall, thin man with a graying mustache and yellow teeth, which he gnashed when he spoke. He was worlds away from the brown-eyed softie he knew to be his stepfather. 

Terry’s ire for his stepfather didn’t fade when Willy berated them, the same way it didn’t when he broke down it Ron’s arms. His resolve to hang onto it simply shrank, inch by inch, giving way to something deeper. The portrait of Ron in his head was no longer black and white. It was colored with nuance and doubt. 

He understood him a little more, now. A lot more. And now all the times he’d screamed at Ron to leave him alone (which isn’t the same, he’s just a kid, and Willy is... Willy) raise bile in his throat. 

Ron wasn’t perfect and he wasn’t what Terry wanted, or needed, in a father. But that’s what he has, now. 

And as terrified and depressed as he is, at the bottom of his heart, he knows Ron is coming for him. The thought isn’t quite comforting. He thinks of the arms that held him atop the tower. His strength is gentle, different from Terry’s father.

All Ron had was Willy. That’s not an excuse—it’s just a fact. When you lose a parent, you become more to your guardian than a child. Right now, Terry is all these kids have. If Ron was here, he’d do something, even if it was out of misguided. So Terry decides to cut him a little slack and steps up. 

Bill turns, eyes flashing under his dark purple hood. 

“We need to eat,” Terry says. “We haven’thad anything in days.”

He cocks his head toward Barry, who raises his hand with some ill-intentioned placation. “Terry, I’ll level with you, because you’re a smart boy. I know you and the boys are hungry, and I appreciate you being up front with us. But our attention is pretty split right now, I’ll admit that. Once your fathers stop being obstinate, we’ll be able to focus more on you.” 

These two aren’t going to get him anywhere, he realizes very quickly. He pivots his strategy and shouts over their shoulders to the figure at the far window. 

“HEY WILLY!”

Bill and Barry tense. 

“Your whole plan won’t work without us, so unless you want our dads to kick your ass, you’ll get us some food.”

The kids’ heads whip around toward Terry. He’s not as big as Willy, but he’s bigger than Ron, and he was the first to hit puberty. He’s always felt too big for himself since his dad passed. How is he supposed to fill out this shape?

He tries to hold onto the outline of his father’s shoulders.

Willy’s head turns over his shoulder and Terry’s breath stops cold. 

The ice cold fear he’s experiencing sends him out of his body, which remains paralyzed in fear on this land far from earth. He sees Willy see him, see _Ron_ , and his chapped lips curve into a vicious grin. 

Barry and Bill part so Willy can face Terry directly. 

“What did you say to me?”

Terry takes a deep breath before he speaks. “We haven’t eaten in days.”

“No, no, what did you _call_ me. Say it again for everyone, Terry.” Terry wracks his brain for an answer. “Come on, what did you fucking call me? SAY IT!”

He flinches but his voice doesn’t waver. “We’re hungry, Willy. We need food. It doesn’t bode well for your plan that you can’t keep a couple kids fed. Some dads you all are.”

The energy of the room is electric. He can feel the kids rallying behind him. In the corner of his eye, Nick stands; Lark and Sparrow perk up; Grant breaks gaze from his window. 

“We’re not dads. We are _fathers_. I am a father. I am YOUR father.” The blue barrier melts. For a moment, Terry’s eyes dart to the exit. In that second, Willy snatches his collar and yanks him up. Terry opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Willy snaps his fingers. 

Terry’s entire body goes still. His mouth goes slack, decisively snapping shut. Willy’s glare paralyzes him. 

Grant stands up. The twins start whining anxiously. 

“What did you call me?”

Terry’s lips move against his will. “Willy.”

“And what do you call me?”

‘ _Sir_ ’ burns on the back of his tongue. He sees Ron, his age, shaking under the hand of this man. He sees his dad, smiling faintly. 

Terry spits in his face. 

Willy wipes his face with the back of his hand and—smiles. He sees Ron in it and he’s terrified. 

“You’ve got more of a spine than Ron, I’ll give you that,” he sneers. “But you didn’t get that from him.”

He snaps his fingers again and suddenly Terry can speak. “I did,” Terry says. “He just didn’t get it from you.”

The other fathers exchange a glance behind Willy, somewhere between patronizing and impressed. 

Willy’s other hand flies back towards him. Lark and Sparrow yelp. Nick covers his eyes. Grant ducks his head and Terry braces himself—

—for a calloused, old hand to pat his cheek. It’s firm, quick, condescending. It could have been Barry, if not for the nails digging into his jaw, if not for the dark matter pulsing under his hand.

Just as Terry’s sure he’s going to get choked out, rotted, a purple light appears behind the three men, scanning through the large window of the tower. 

He mutters something like ‘ _I’ll deal with you later_ ’ and throws his hood back up, releasing Terry roughly. Barry raises the barrier before the twins make it to the staircase. 

Grant pulls him to his feet and back. He sees Nick shaking, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. When Terry meets his gaze, he grins and sits back down like nothing happened. 

“Someone’s here,” Terry whispers. 

Grant fumbles with his pockets. “You shouldn’t, shouldnt have done that. I mean, it’s not fair...” He can’t quite articulate. Terry puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes. It feels like something Ron would do. 

He holds it together for a second longer to say, “Someone had to.”

Grant numbs out eventually. Terry returns to his spot and pulls his knees to his chest. He can’t bring himself to cry.

They still need him. He just has to hold on until Ron gets here.   
  


He just has to hold on. 


End file.
